


A Lovely Night

by slrandomperson



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Inspired by La La Land (2016), M/M, References to La La Land (2016), Stargazing, Yknow that song when they're walking during sunset, basically it's cute, kind of?? not really, yeah that one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 15:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20659472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slrandomperson/pseuds/slrandomperson
Summary: The first thing he says to me is, "What are you doing up here?" It's quite the loaded question.------Baz is doing some thinking up on the ramparts. Simon is having a hard time giving Baz a moment to himself.





	A Lovely Night

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by https://youtu.be/dakkOinX45Y
> 
> Tumblr: sophie-m-leo  
Twitter: bishopspatrick

** Baz **

The first thing he says to me is, "What are you doing up here?" It's quite the loaded question.

Snow can never and will never know this, but I've just received a message from my father that I'm expected to move into a flat of my own when I graduate. Honestly, I shouldn't have hoped for anything different, but I thought that after a few years he would be able to come around. 

I know it's not because of the vampire thing.

The ramparts have consistently been the only place I'm able to go for some fresh air. Snow thinks I go exclusively to the Catacombs, but it's so musty and suffocating down there that it's hard to stay for longer than an hour. 

Tonight, the sky is swirling with stars. I'm not typically one for stargazing unless I'm being tested or educated on the subject—I've known the names of every star in most constellations visible from Hampshire since I was twelve—but it's helping me sort out my feelings. I don't do that a lot; I'm good at pushing it all down so I can think about it endlessly without letting it show or arriving at an invariable conclusion.

The view is romantic, in a way. I've been imagining that I'm not up here alone—that someone cares enough about me to hold my hand and share this moment with me. It's sappy and disgusting, but I need to survive rooming with the bloke I'm in love with for just a little longer. And then my father will kick me out of Pitch Manor,  _my_ home, and overrun it with Grimms like the bastard's always wanted.

And now I'm staring out at the gorgeous night sky with Snow standing behind me. This is not the context I'd imagined it in. I expect him to have his sword pointed at me when I turn around, but I'm surprised to find that he doesn't. I wish he did. This means he intends to use magic to get rid of me, which is never good for anyone.

"Looking at the sky, Snow. Why are  _you_ up here?" I finally respond.

He narrows his eyes at me and takes a step closer. We're two metres apart now. I hope he's come here to kill me. "I was looking for—" I watch a blush creep up his neck. "I was looking for someone."

I raise an eyebrow and lean back against the stone parapet. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but Wellbelove isn't up here."

Snow bristles. "I wasn't looking for her, arsehole. We broke up."

I sneer to cover up my shock. Trouble in paradise with Watford's darling couple—I never would have guessed. "Sounds about right to me, Snow. She deserves better than you." It's the opposite of what I really want to say. Wellbelove is very good at convincing Snow that she's superior to him.

He manages to ignore my remark, which is quite the feat for him. "Don't you want to know why?"

"Why would I want to know why?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

Snow takes another step forward. "I know you like Agatha." He sounds like he's on the brink of a breakdown. "Don't you want to know if you have a chance?"

I scoff. "Of course I have a chance. I've had a chance since before you two started dating."

His nostrils flare and I can tell he's restraining himself from breaking my nose again. "Then why don't you go and take it?" he asks through a clenched jaw.

My eyebrow shoots up. "Seriously?"

Snow nods. "Tell me, Baz."

I stare at him for a moment before letting out a low chuckle. It's the most laughter I'm willing to emit around him. "You really haven't figured it out."

He's absolutely fuming now. "_Tell_ _me_."

"I'm into blokes! Crowley, are you really that thick? I'm gay, Snow." It's a wonder he hasn't at least figured that out by now. 

Snow takes a step back and freezes there, staring at me with wide eyes. I just keep my gaze level and my expression stone cold. It's the only way I can stop myself from jumping off the ramparts right now.

It's a while before he says, "Oh."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah. Oh." I turn around again so I don't have to look at him and wish this was less perfect—this is one of those nights where people all over must be confessing their love or something annoying like that. The stars shine like they don't care how my night goes one way or another.

There's a minute that goes by where I expect him to go back to our room or find Wellbelove and convince her to get back together with him, but then I see him come up beside me in my peripheral. I can feel every time he glances over at me, which is a lot.

"The sky is pretty tonight," he says, and I can't help but wonder why he's talking to me.

"Wonderful observation, Snow."

He turns to face me completely, propping up an elbow on the stone. I don't look at him. "Why are you so awful to me?"

I laugh again, short and quiet. "I could ask you the same." I tap the bridge of my nose, which is now and forever fucked up because Snow can't control his fists.

Snow scoffs and rolls his eyes. "As if you're not still infuriatingly attractive. I'd argue that you look even better now than before I punched you, which I didn't think was possible."

What the fuck is he on about?

I turn to look at him for the first time since he's come up next to me, eyes narrow and blood rising to my cheeks. I'm not sure how that works—the whole blush thing—but it must have something to do with feeding only an hour ago. "'Infuriatingly attractive'?" I say, voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper.

It's Snow's turn to blush now. "Um, well—I mean, yeah. You're, y'know. You're you, and—I just—" He seems to give up on justifying himself. "Yeah. You're the fittest bloke I've ever seen. It's quite annoying." He turns back to the stars, but now I can't look away from him.

"_What_?" There's no way I'm hearing him right.

Snow sighs. "I don't know. I try not to think about it."

I stare at him for a moment before turning back to look up at the infinite space above. Even now, it feels like the stars are closer than Snow. I can never be close enough to him. "This was the worst possible timing for coming up here—you know that, right?"

He shrugs. Half of his sentences are shrugs. "I don't know that. Why?"

"Because you would give anything to be up here with Wellbelove instead of me; I can guarantee it."

Snow glares at me. "That's not true."

I smirk. "Oh, please. This is the perfect evening for some awful sappy romance, and you're spending it up here with me. I know you, Snow, and I know that you've been thinking about it this whole time."

He growls, and I wonder when he literally regressed back to first year. "You don't know what I've been thinking about. What if I  _want_ to be up here with you?" His jaw is set but his cheeks are pink. The last time I saw Snow like this was when he told me he could cast a heating spell just as well as I could, and I told him to prove it. I made him regret challenging me.

I turn to completely face him. "You're just saying that to disagree with me."

Snow huffs and I can't help but raise my eyebrow higher. He's so bloody stupid. "As if  you don't want to be here with me."

And, Crowley, if I'm not blushing, I must be on fire. I'd take the latter any day. "Of course I don't, Snow. Any other pair of people would be happy to take our place and enjoy this night together, but there's no way  _you_, of all people, would ever want to spend it with me."

Snow folds his arms. "I think I'll be the one to make that call."

"Do you listen to yourself sometimes, Snow?" I ask with a glare. "You sound like you're in love with me or something." Just saying it makes my heart stumble over its next few beats.

He's silent for a moment, and I watch his cheeks flush a deeper shade of red. "I—that's not what I meant. Obviously."

"Yeah." I will myself to glare harder. "Obviously."

"But," he says, stepping closer and jabbing my chest with an accusatory finger, "it's still not your call. You have no idea what I'm thinking. You don't know me like you think you do. I'm not that easy to read."

I know when he's just trying to get under my skin. "You're an incredibly simple creature, Snow. And I certainly know you better than anyone else around here."

Snow reaches out to grab the collar of my jumper, yanking me closer so I'm looking deep into his stupidly ordinary blue eyes. "Prove it."

"For starters, you insist on sleeping with the window open." I start counting things off on my fingers: "Your bathroom counter space and desk are unbelievably messy, you eat like a pig because you're used to not knowing when your next meal will come, you do your homework at absolutely ungodly hours of the night, you're plagued by nightmares,  _The Notebook_ makes you cry, you hate being the Chosen One, you secretly wish the Mage would leave you alone for two seconds, you're not in love with your girlfriend—or ex, I suppose—and you have this weird fixation on me and everything I do at all hours of the day." I hold up my hands, even though he's still staring right into my eyes. "Would you like me to continue? I've run out of fingers."

His breathing has slowed. "How do you know that? That I don't love Agatha. And that I wish I wasn't the Chosen One."

I wrap my fingers around his wrists and try to pry his hands off my jumper, but they stay put. "Because I know you. We've been over this."

Snow bites his lip and it takes everything I have to not look. "Agatha broke up with me because she thinks I'm in love with someone else."

For a moment, I allow myself to imagine he'll say it's me. But I quickly shoot that thought down. "Is she right?"

"No," he says, and I hope I'm not visibly disappointed. "I mean—well, she—Agatha thought I was in love with Penny. Which, I mean, I'm obviously not. She's—we're just friends." I'm not sure if Snow realizes he's still holding me this close. "But...I mean, Agatha isn't right. But you are." He tightens his grip on the fabric of my uniform. "I do have a really weird fixation on you."

"Of course you do," I say, all faux confidence and forced indifference.

Snow pushes out a heavy breath and licks his lips. "I'm just trying to say that I don't get it. I don't even understand why I'm up here, so how can you? You just..." He lets go with his right hand and runs it through his hair, tugging on bronze curls. "You're so smug about being right and it's awful. I don't want you to be right all the time."

I let my arms fall to my sides. "Well, too bad. I am."

He shakes his head. "No. I know that for sure. You're not right  _all_ the time. Just mostly. Like, you got the part about me wishing Agatha was here wrong."

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow. 

Snow nods. "Yeah. And—never mind, this is dumb." He lets go with his other hand and spins on his heel, pacing back and forth along the ramparts. "So bloody stupid," he mutters.

"I know I'm right about at least a few things. Like the fact that you're not in love with me."

He growls again and stops a few metres away, still facing me. "Stop saying things like that. I hate when you're right."

I'm getting him riled up. This is the only way I'm going to get out of this. "We're never going to happen, Snow. This wonderful sky will never be shared by anyone ever again, and it's been wasted on us. All because we aren't in love. Can you believe that? And to think, it's your fault that we're here right now."

Snow stamps his foot like a child. "That's not your call to make. There will be no chance when I say there's no chance."

"Honestly, Snow, you sound suspiciously irked by all this. Perhaps you  _do_ love me? That would be quite the—"

"Shut up!" he shouts. "I'm not in love with you!"

"Prove it," I say, and I'm not exactly sure what I expect him to do.

He doesn't even hesitate before closing the distance between us and dragging me down into a heated kiss, forcefully shoving his tongue into my mouth like it's a battle. He kisses me like he's fighting me.

Aleister Crowley, I'm kissing Simon Snow.

He brings his hands up to grip the sides of my face. I hesitantly move mine to hold his hips because I am truly weak and resisting the temptation would result in failure. Snow is the centre of my solar system and I am orbiting around him.

I figure that if Snow is going to keep kissing me like he's trying to win a war, I'd better fight back. I turn and shove him against the parapet, pulling away for just a moment to regain control before pressing my mouth to his once more. I bite his lower lip. He moans. I'm absolutely gone for him.

Snow hesitantly moves his hand up to run his fingers through my hair, and he does it with calculated purpose. I don't know how he's already figured out everything I've imagined him doing to me that doesn't involve some sort of pain—stabbing me, blowing me up with his magic, smiling at me when I least expect it—but he has. He's figured out everything I want from him and is now using it to melt me from the inside out.

I've got my tongue in his mouth and he's only pulling me closer. I don't think I'd be able to move away if the world was burning down around us, so it's a good thing that he breaks the kiss first.

And then his mouth is on my neck, and the first thing I think is how unfair that is. "Snow," I whisper, and it comes out as more of a breath than a word.

He leaves a trail of tiny kisses along my collarbone before finally looking up at me. "Yeah?"

I press a kiss to one of the moles under his eye because I've always wanted to and I don't think I'll ever get to again. "What are you doing?" I whisper against his skin.

Snow pulls back to meet my eyes. "Snogging you. What does it look like I'm doing?"

My internal organs must have a vibrate setting because I'm about to buzz out of my skin. "Why?"

He slides his hands down to my arms, and he seems suspiciously focused on trying to look like he's not feeling me up. "Well, um—I don't know about you, but—remember when I said I don't like when you're right?"

I can only nod.

"So..." He glances off to the side. "You're also wrong about another thing. I don't know, I just—I think I may be kind of gay, too. And, like, that's not the thing that you said that made me say you're wrong—"

"Get to the point, Snow." I wish I sounded more snappy, but my voice is shaking too much for that.

He takes in another deep breath. "I may be just the tiniest bit in love with you. Okay, not 'the tiniest bit.' Very in love with you. To the point at which it makes no sense."

Snow is the centre of my solar system, and I am crashing into him. 

"You weren't looking for Wellbelove," I say slowly.

"Of course not." He gives me a lopsided smile and it sends my heart on a roller coaster. "I was looking for you."

"Why? Since when?" I ask exasperatedly.

Snow shrugs. "I knew I wanted to talk to you, but I wasn't sure about what. I figured accusing you of trying to steal my girlfriend was the reason, but I guess not. I don't know."

I furrow my brow. "You don't know."

"Right. I'm good at not thinking about things. Which is kind of why I kissed you, and why I only just now realized that I—" He looks up at me like he suddenly remembers that I'm the one he's talking to. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

I shake my head. "Simon, no. Don't be sorry."

"_Ha_!" he shouts triumphantly, and I flinch. "You called me Simon!"

"I did nothing of the sort."

"You definitely did."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

I do. His lips are soft and I kiss him slowly, much slower than before. He doesn't try to win anymore, and neither do I. We just stand there, chest-to-chest, stealing the breath from each other like it makes any sense at all.

When I pull away, I'm still holding his hips and he's keeping me pressed up against him. "Since when?" he asks me quietly. Snow knows without me having to tell him. That's one of the things I love about him.

"Fifth year," I mutter, and he sucks in a breath. If he wasn't such a mouth-breather, I wouldn't be able to tell. "I've wanted to kiss you almost since we met, but I figured out I loved you in fifth year. It's been awful ever since because I still do."

Snow is gazing up at me with his dumb blue eyes. I can see the stars in the reflection, and it gives the illusion that he's holding the whole universe in his pupils. "Wicked," he whispers.

I glare at him. "Excuse me?"

He has to go up on his toes to peck my lips again, but I let him. "To think that I've probably been in love with you this whole time. Merlin, I'm thick."

"You've probably  _what_?"

Snow shrugs again. "If I didn't figure out I'm in love with you until you shoved me up against a wall and snogged me senseless, who knows how long it could have been going on? I certainly don't."

I roll my eyes. "You are, perhaps, the most idiotic person I've ever met."

"Yet you still love me."

I swallow. I'm not used to him knowing about that. "Shut up."

Snow gets this mischievous glint in his eye. "You have to stop telling me that, Baz. You know what I'm going to say."

"Whatever," I mumble, the heat rising to my cheeks once again.

"You're adorable," he says with a bright smile. "And I want you to know that I'm never going to stop annoying the shit out of you. Even as your terrible boyfriend."

And that sends me for another loop. "My what?" I've said that a lot already. Snow just makes my brain melt.

"Your boyfriend. I mean, if that's what you want." He pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. "I figured it only makes sense."

I shake my head. "Snow, no. You know as well as I do that this could only end in flames."

"That's not true," he says defensively. "I don't see how it _won't_ work out. It'll show the Mage and the Families that there's no reason to fight if we can face the Humdrum together."

"Simon—"

"Tyrannus," he says with a warning stare. He must have picked it up from Bunce.

I wrinkle my nose. "Never call me that again."

"Exactly. Now look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want to be boyfriends."

I do look him in the eyes. "Why do you suddenly trust me after one kiss?"

Snow shrugs. "I've always trusted you. Just for different things. Like, I've trusted you to always be there in the end. I used to think it was to kill me, but..." He leans closer. "Besides, it's two kisses."

"What?"

He's crashing into me once again. This is the moment I decide that Simon Snow will make the world's best terrible boyfriend.

He proves me right.


End file.
